


Retribution

by jturner36



Series: Doug & Carol - by Jordan Turner [3]
Category: E.R.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 12:45:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14449566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jturner36/pseuds/jturner36
Summary: Carol goes to Doug after losing Tatiana.





	Retribution

**Author's Note:**

> ***Author's Note*** -- Other writers will understand this, I'm sure: This was one of those stories that I just had to write. It has been growing in my heart for a long time. This scene from ER, to me, told more than any other about Doug, the kind of man he was deep inside, and it illustrated for me what Carol had seen in him. Also, it made me really understand the depth of their relationship and the quiet love each held back in their hearts. Truly, Carol and Doug belong to each other. The underlying emotions in this scene are phenomenal. I've enjoyed writing every story thus far, but this one is closest to my soul as a writer.
> 
> Having said that, I am in debt to my two editors, Iman and Elizabeth, who encourage me and know how to challenge me and push me to work at it until I get it right. This story is dedicated to both of you, with heartfelt thanks and affection...
> 
> ...and, by the way, if you've never heard this Stevie Wonder song, find it one day. It's from "The Original Musicquarium I." The song is part of "Superwoman (Where Were You When I Needed You)" and it's close to my heart, too.
> 
> This story is based around "Sleepless in Chicago."
> 
> The show ER, and all characters and situations borrowed from it, are property of Constant-C, NBC, Warner Brothers, etc. This fanfiction is for entertainment only, and no money is made from it. The story contains graphic scenes and words which may offend some readers, and as such, it is not appropriate for children under 18. This story is not to be archived or distributed without the permission of the author.
> 
> Stories in the series:  
> A Clean Break; Stages of Ending; Retribution; Covenant; Tap-dance; Free Falling; Blink of an Eye; Vivisection; Keepsakes; In the Steam; Through the Night; Cornerstone; Domesticity; Caretaker; To CH; The Empty Space; Tenderhearted; Intoxicated; The Present; Summit; The Harbor, Part I; The Harbor, Part II; Transition Game; Expectations; Joint Venture; Kiss of Life; Residuum; Aftermath; Letters Never Sent; Wonderful Things; The Mere Fragrance; Walking the Tightrope; Vernal Equinox; Bits of Broken Glass; What it's Not; Ayant Seulement L'Imagination; Culmination; Tidings of Comfort; Parallel Hearts; Visitation Rites; Wee Small Hours; Barometric Pressure; The Emerald City; A Peaceable Start; Mother's Day; Spilling Forth; Significant Other; Doug and Carol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the summer came you were not around  
Now the summer's gone and love cannot be found  
Where were you when I needed you...last winter, my love?  
When the winter came you went further south  
Parting from love's nest, leaving me in doubt  
Where are you when I need you, like right now?

\- Stevie Wonder

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Numb. The word described everything. Absolutely numb. She scarcely felt it on her face, her fingers hurt only a little, but it went deeper than her skin. Her heart hurt. God, everything hurt.

Carol had looked at Ms. Brown, disbelieving what she heard, incredulous. She'd never even considered it, never even given it a moment's thought. Carol, who was always so prepared, so buttoned-up about everything, was side-swiped.

It was impossible, explaining it to Tatiana. Carol's knowledge of Russian was so limited, and there was too much to say. How do you say, "It's my fault. My mistake. I never would have led you on had I known."? Carol held her in her arms, smoothing her hair, feeling the little girl's body shake as she cried. Finally, having to leave, she looked back at Tatiana's confused face. Feeling confused herself.

So now, walking the abandoned streets, Carol had no purpose, no direction. She should go home, Tag would be waiting, worried about her. But there would be no solace in those arms. He'd never understand. As it was, he thought her need for Tatiana was some kind of...what was the word he'd used? "Phase." They'd had a heated argument about it.

"Carol, you can have a baby right away if you want, a baby of our own, a healthy child. Part of us."

"You don't understand, Tag, she needs us right now."

"No, I think for some reason, you need her. It's just a phase, you're emotional now. She'll get wonderful care where she is."

Frustrated, Carol stood up and walked over to the window. "Oh, yeah. Great! Care. What about love? We could give her everything, the best medical care, we could love her and make the rest of her life wonderful."

"Listen, I'm going to be late for work. I have to go."

"Fine, Tag, go."

He looked after her as she walked into the bedroom and the heavy wooden door shut between them once again.

*****

Wandering, wandering, too drained to even care about the cold anymore, it was no surprise to her, where she ended up. He was the salve she needed, she knew he would take her in and ask no questions. Still, she hesitated. If she knocked and there was...company...what would she do? Maybe a quiet knock would be okay. Oh, Doug, please be alone tonight.

*****

Who could this be? Did those people next door have another fight, did the lady need to use the phone to call the cops again? Grabbing a shirt on the way out of his bedroom to ward off the chill in his apartment, he stumbled towards the door, forgetting he was in his shorts.

"All right!"

There she stood. It seemed impossible that she would be knocking at his door. That she would be here, now. It had to be important.

Tatiana?

Oh, Carol. No.

He steadied her, fragile as she was, holding her arms in his hands. She was broken, he could see it, the resolve, the toughness she'd created around herself had cracked, and with that toughness, that exterior gone, what was exposed again was his Carol, his sweet, gentle Carol. Holding her hands in his, he wanted to hold all of her; she was so cold.

If he believed in such things, he'd think the fates were taunting him. He reached up, touching her hair.

That hair, that soft mass of hair in his hands again. How many times had it trapped him, had it enticed him? After making love to her, making her weak and pliant under his touch, he'd play with it, winding it around his fingers, letting it rest on his neck, his chest. Afraid he would get lost in it, and in her, again, he let go of it. But he had to touch her, and so he held her arms again, resisting the provocation to pull her close.

Carol was sniffling, doubting herself. "Maybe...maybe I shouldn't have thought about doing this.

"No. You were exactly what she needed."

Carol heard his voice, focused on his eyes and his words, then replied, "You are the only person who thinks that."

"Well, I know you...."

And he did. He smiled warmly, trying his best to help her, and it was then that she was willing to forget everything else for tonight: Her convictions, her relationship with Tag, none of it mattered. Doug could make this hurt go away; he would know how. If she gave herself to him tonight, she knew he would take care of her.

"Can I stay here?"

Doug looked at her for a moment - her eyes were so innocent and pleading. And yet...they were the color of autumn, full of promise and warmth and fire. Incredibly beautiful.

Hesitating, he closed his eyes briefly, unable to withstand her gaze, summoning restraint he didn't know he possessed. "Does...Tag know yet?"

A whisper: "Tag never wanted her."

As she leaned in, as her lips approached, he immediately recoiled. Not like this. God, not like this.

"Oh, Carol, no."

"Please."

How many times had he asked this of her, had she let him escape into her body, submerge himself in her to dull his pain, soothe his soul in her bed? And yet now, he could not do it for her. It was his punishment, he thought. He could finally have her, tonight; her softness yielding to his longing, her passion burning a hole in him, but he would never take her this way. Never.

Kissing her forehead, he felt that holding her this close was almost more than he could bear. Doug didn't move. His forehead was pressed against hers, his eyes closed, he was breathing her in, struggling for composure. If you only knew, he thought. How my heart dwells on you, what I do with you in my dreams. What I would do.

"Why don't I drive you home?"

He gave her a minute, letting her cry, kissing her hair. As Doug put his arms around her tenderly, he knew it would be the last time he'd ever be able to do this. She collapsed into him so completely, so naturally. She fits perfectly, he thought. Imagine. Crying uncontrollably, she clung to him.

He held her closer and rocked her a little, gently. "I know," he whispered.

*****

"Give me a minute?" he asked quietly.

"Sure."

"Sit down, Carol."

"Okay."

Leading her to a chair, he handed her a box of tissues. He was worried about her. She was detached, acting confused. "I'm getting dressed, I'll be right back," he assured her. Doug walked to his bedroom and shut the door behind him. Closing his eyes, he leaned back, letting the door support him a minute. A thousand thoughts whirled through his mind, and he tried to sort them out, but only one thing remained clear: He hated having to deliver her to Taglieri tonight. John would never be able to take care of her, not in the way she needed.

But, Doug knew, neither could he.

Walking into the bathroom, he splashed some water on his face. This all seemed so improbable. Carol had intimated that nobody supported her decision to adopt Tatiana, so maybe she felt he would be understanding, but after the way she'd treated him lately, he really hadn't expected to see her at his apartment again. Doug shivered, realizing again how cold the apartment was at night. He pulled on some sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and stepped into his shoes. Opening the door, he saw her in the kitchen.

"Do you need something, Carol?"

"No. Well, I'm making myself some hot cocoa. I...remembered...." She looked at him, taking a deep breath, and did not continue.

Her eyes were wide now, and he resisted the impulse to get lost in them again. His heart was in his throat.

You remembered, he thought, drinking hot chocolate in the winter after making love in the cold. How later, we could taste the sweetness on each other's lips.

How could we not remember, Carol?

*****

So cool was her exterior, the pale skin, the dark hair. The warmth lay within, he knew, you could see it through her eyes if she let you get close enough. He knew her, he knew every inch of her. How to make her beg, say his name again and again in bed. How to make her tremble, then gasp. And he could make her belong to him, even if it was only for one night at a time.

Carol knew, too, that her heart, her body, had been his sanctuary, a place where he knew he would be accepted and loved and pampered. And she knew that he craved her. He was always amazed at her passion, he would tell her, and she would smile. It was his doing.

She could see it in the way he moved when he was near her, always disturbingly close, one hand ready to touch, to guide. And his eyes, so deep and dark. "Make love to me, Carol. I want your sweetness tonight," he would say in a voice so rich, so smooth, she could never say no. And then Doug would take her with him on the most tender journeys. He'd moan softly as he entered her, looking at her face with his half-closed eyes, smiling, knowing what he did to her body. Revealing what she did to his. So in tune were they, moving in unison, her arms surrounding him, clutching him. His body reaching out for her. She'd hold the nape of his neck and pull him close, just so she could feel his breath in her ear.

*****

Finally, she continued quietly. "I remembered...where you kept the cocoa. I hope you don't mind."

Looking down, he murmured, "Not at all."

It was bitter out and he told her to wait in his apartment a few minutes, finish her drink while he warmed up the car. Doug walked outside, started the car, then scraped the windows. Climbing in, rubbing his hands together to warm them, he looked out to see if she was coming, but he couldn't because the windows were foggy. When he turned on the defroster, it spewed frigid air against him. The car slowly warmed, and after a while, she opened the door and stepped in.

Doug looked at her. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Where are your gloves?"

"I don't even know," she answered.

"Here, take mine," he said, and laid them on the seat next to her. But she didn't move.

They were silent for a long time. She looked out the window as he carefully drove, one eye on the road, the other on her. He saw tears form again as her head fell forward. His hand tentatively approached hers, an offer of comfort, and without looking at him, she took it. The engagement ring scraped his fingers, a sharp reminder. But right now, he didn't really care. He tugged gently, and she fell to him, laying her head on his shoulder, silently crying once again.

Carol was certain Doug didn't realize it, but his thumb was moving back and forth, lightly stroking her fingers. She loved the feel of his hand again. It was big and enclosed hers so well, she noticed. Tag's were large too, but the feel of them was different. Tag had the hands of an orthopedic surgeon. They were clinical hands. Doug had pediatrician's hands. Gentle and calming.

As they approached her street, he felt her become tense, her hand tightened around his. Suddenly, she wasn't ready to go home.

"Carol...would you...do you need some more time?"

"Please."

Driving past her street, not really knowing where to go, he headed for a favorite spot, giving her more opportunity to talk if she needed to.

"It's my final punishment, Doug."

"Carol, c'mon, you had no way of knowing...."

She interrupted, "You don't understand, I'm being punished for trying to kill myself."

"No, Carol, it's just what happens in life, it's not punishment.

Becoming inconsolable again, choking on her words, she cried, "Oh, God, Doug! You don't know what it's like, losing a child."

His hand grew stiff in hers. In that moment, she knew she had overstepped her bounds.

"I'm sorry. Doug?"

He answered quietly. "Yeah?"

"I wanted her so much."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's like...you see her, you get to know her, and then she touches something, somewhere down deep within you. You know, somewhere no one else has managed to reach. Before you know it, she's everything to you. You dream about what life would be like...being with her every day, being able to shower her with love. And then, she's gone. And, Doug? There's this ache inside of you, this awful ache...and it feels like no one else will ever be able to relieve it, it'll never go away." Pausing for a moment, she sighed, pressing her head into his shoulder. "I guess you just have to live with it, it becomes part of you."

Doug held his breath for a moment, holding back feelings he'd never share with her. "I guess so."

They traveled silently, the fan blowing heat at them the only sound. On Lakeshore Drive now, Doug looked past Carol into the vast darkness over the lake. It was cold, he knew, Lake Michigan in winter, with its treacherous ice and its crashing waves. Cold and unforgiving.

"I drive past here a lot," he offered.

"You do? Since when?"

"Oh, for a long time now. I like to watch the lake...it has a personality, it changes. In the spring you see people...testing the water...seeing if they can swim yet. They can't, though. Too cold. But it's...exciting all the same...something new."

"What about the summer?" she asked.

"Well, summertime, you can relax in it. It's nice...refreshing. It's perfect, it's what you wanted...what you'd hoped for. It's perfect."

Carol was listening carefully. "Fall?"

"Fall? There are still some boaters...people walking along the shore, trying to hold on to it...but it's changing. It's getting ready to turn its back on you. All that'll be left are memories."

She paused, reflecting on his words a moment. "And the winter, Doug?"

"Winter...it's the most dangerous, I think. The water is black...it's not blue anymore...the shelf ice at the shore tries to convince you that it's stable...that you can walk on it...that it'll be safe for you to come back, and you want to believe it's the same lake, but it's not. It deceives you. There's nothing safe about it. It waits, though, for you to let down your guard."

It wouldn't be safe, he thought, if you let down your guard. They remained silent for quite some time.

She broke it, finally. "You think about things like that?"

"I do."

Carol thought about his words; about the changing lake. This was intense, she thought, Doug being so introspective, sharing this with her now. She couldn't really remember when they'd last talked like this. In fact, she didn't know if they ever really had before.

"I need to get you home now, Carol. Okay?"

"Sure."

He made a left-hand turn to take her home. The rest of the trip was quiet, uneventful. Carol hadn't let go of his hand, and he didn't want her to. She was lost to him forever, he knew, so he cherished the feel of her skin against his.

"Warmer now?" he asked.

"I am."

He prepared himself to give her up again. Would John be there, waiting? Worried? Would he be angry with Carol? Doug thought of all this as he absent-mindedly fingered her ring.

Looking down, she saw him do this, leaving his fingerprints on the stone. It was time for them to let go, she needed to move away, take her head off his shoulder. Now. As she began to move, he pulled her arm gently, holding her back. Just for a moment; he kissed her hair. Then he let her move away.

Pulling up to her building, he put the car in park and looked ahead into the empty street. Doug waited for her to leave, to go to her fiancé. Carol bent her head down, studying her hands in her lap. "Thanks for the ride," she said, holding back the rush of emotions she felt.

"Sure. Be careful going in, it might be icy."

Carol opened the car door, then stopped briefly. Gazing up at her apartment, she reached back blindly and put her hand on his, her fingertips slowly brushed against him and she caressed the palm of his hand. Just as quickly, she was gone, up the steps, opening the door. He couldn't watch her anymore. As he pulled away, he didn't see her pause at the door, didn't hear her whispered words of thanks and regret.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our love is at an end  
But you say now you have changed  
But tomorrow will reflect love's past  
When the winter came you were not around  
Through the bitter winds love could not be found  
Where were you when I needed you, last winter, my love?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The end


End file.
